


Full Moon Ficlet #392 - Studio

by JoMouse



Series: Full Moon Ficlets [23]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Musician Derek Hale, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25765777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMouse/pseuds/JoMouse
Summary: Stiles spends his nights cleaning an empty music studio curious about the 'Derek' that appreciates the flowers he leaves behind.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Full Moon Ficlets [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1652395
Comments: 14
Kudos: 178
Collections: Full Moon Ficlet Prompt #392: Studio





	Full Moon Ficlet #392 - Studio

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings and salutations.
> 
> So, this is actually my second attempt to write for this theme because the first one got away from me. Then I'm writing this one and it tried to get away from me as well but I reigned it in and left it very open-ended but trust me when I tell you that in my worlds, Derek and Stiles always end up together. Saying that, I might one day expand on this world.
> 
> Big thanks for my beta [Marie](HTTP://quietzap.tumblr.com) for looking this over and kindly pointing out that a "gift card for a gift card" is probably not what I meant to say (it wasn't and I fixed it, but I'm still chuckling about it and even my kid is teasing me).
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> xx-Joey
> 
> Don't know 'em. Don't own 'em. Don't show 'em.

Stiles put in his earbuds as he wrestled the cleaning cart out of the closet that was considered a maintenance room for the tiny music studio housed on the basement level of a warehouse in the seedy part of town. Bopping his head, he made his way down the short hallway to the front offices, taking care of the receptionist’s desk. He reached into the bag he’d brought with him, pulling out the bouquet he’d brought to place in the crystal vase he’d found at an estate sale. He’d picked it up about a week after getting this job to supplement his financial aid for school and immediately thought of the glum-looking office.

A week after he’d left the first bouquet, a thank you note was left for him signed in a flowing script by someone named Derek. He wasn’t sure who Derek was but if someone appreciated the flowers, he was going to keep it up. As time went on, small gifts of candy and notes were left for Stiles weekly, every time he replaced the flowers. He looked forward to what the surprises would be and the previous week, a gift card for Stiles’ favorite coffee shop was left for him. When he’d checked the balance on it, he’d nearly choked when the automated voice on the other end of the phone told him it was $500.

This week he’d bought roses; it was the least he could do. He wanted to thank Derek in person but he had no idea who he was. He would ask around the office but it was always empty whenever he let himself in to do the cleaning; he’d been hired by an outside agency and did all his dealings with them so he’d never actually met anyone that worked at Triskele Records. One day between classes, he’d called and asked to speak to Derek only to be told by the snippy woman on the other end of the phone that, “Mr. Hale was unavailable” but that he was welcome to make an appointment on the fifth Sunday of never.

Giving up, he decided to leave the flowers with a detailed thank you note insisting that he didn’t need to keep giving him gifts. His step-brother’s wife owned a flower shop and gave him the flowers for either free or at cost. The roses had been a little more than he usually spent but he loved the way they looked and after the generous gift card, it was the very least he could do.

It took him just over an hour to clean the receptionist’s area and waiting room, including the tiny unisex bathroom that sometimes took him some extra time depending on how disgusting the clientele had been that day. He moved onto the private offices which were a bit quicker as he was told to leave the desks alone unless they were clear enough to dust, which most of them were not.

Finally, he made it back to the actual recording studio. He always liked cleaning this area because he could hook his phone up to a Bluetooth speaker someone had left behind and moved a bit more freely around the area as he cleaned. Backing into the engineering part of the studio, it wasn’t until he turned around that he realized he wasn’t alone. Inside the studio, a guitar in his lap was a dark-haired man that made Stiles’ breath catch in his throat.

The man’s eyes were closed as his fingers strummed lightly over the strings. His lips were moving but there was no sound coming from the studio. Moving closer to the board, he found the fader that brought up the volume. The voice that filled the room around him wasn’t as low as he’d expected based on the rough beauty of the man it was coming from but it twisted and curled through Stiles, warming him from the inside.

The lyrics were haunting, a story of love for a faceless man, and Stiles grinned at the lack of heteronormative lyrics, grasping at the thrill that the gorgeous man wasn’t completely straight. When the song ended, Stiles couldn’t help clapping his hands, even though the man couldn’t see him. Stiles heard him breathing quietly before looking up, his eyes still closed. When they opened, the crystal green of them brought Stiles’ breath back and he waved when the guy looked at him with something akin to horror.

Thankfully, the expression faded from horror to something shy instead of anger as he stood and put his guitar back on its stand and headed to the door, letting himself back into the engineering booth and over to the board where he flipped a couple of switches. “You liked that?”

“What I heard of it, yeah,” Stiles told him. “It was...haunting.”

“Good,” the guy said, pressing another button, and the song filled the room, this time from the beginning, a slow guitar intro that brought Stiles’ smile full-beam on him which he returned with a small smile of his own. “I didn’t think there was anyone here.”

“I’m the cleaning guy. I’ve never seen another living soul since I started here, but I have to say I feel pretty fortunate to have witnessed this,” he said, waving his hands to indicate the song that was still playing and if the ending and beginning had touched Stiles the middle was bringing tears to his eyes. “I’d buy this.”

“This is just for fun,” the guy said. “Making sure my equipment works.”

“Man, you are depriving the world of that voice,” Stiles told him. “Seriously, I would buy so many copies of that song.”

“I help other people get heard. This is my studio,” he explained, holding out a hand and his smile growing as Stiles took it, electricity zinging up his arm and buzzing in his ears. “I’m Derek. Derek Hale.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say 'hi' on tumblr! I'm josjournal over there!


End file.
